


Beside You.

by dirtygsanchez



Series: Pyramid-Scheme [9]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 01:24:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtygsanchez/pseuds/dirtygsanchez
Summary: Pyramid-Scheme SeriesThis a turn-about Roleplay fiction originally written on tumblr between @bill-rick (Bill Cipher now inhabiting a Rick Sanchez body) and @evilgsanchez ('Evil' Rick Sanchez). Through roleplay we have built up a 40 year relationship for the pair and this compiled fiction takes place a few days after "An Embarking."What occurs during this time is that Evil Rick and his young husband 'Rocker' Rick, decide separate and spend some time apart and the young Rick cannot come to terms with sharing his husband with Bill. Bill meanwhile takes the huge step of leaving his husband and his family. Evil Rick spirals into a depression following his husband leaving and Bill is there to pick up the pieces and explain to Rick that after all these years of waiting, the old man finally has the demon all to himself.  Once again the two share an intimacy they haven't shared in years and have both missed.





	Beside You.

**Beside You**

Three hours had passed since his husband had left the lair, three hours that Evil Rick had spent laid flat out on the cold lab floor staring at the ceiling, stiff and silent, like a corpse; he didn’t want to move, to smoke, to drink, to eat, to breathe, to  _be_. Emotionally he felt evacuated, like some part of him, the part that cared about anything had finally had the good sense to leave and had slipped away to float off into the ether, leaving his damaged, pointless old carcass behind. He wasn’t even a ghost of himself, he was a  _shell_ , a husk, one that was empty and hollow and felt absolutely nothing. Well, not quite true, he felt  _something_ , but that something was only the stark absence of anything; he was still in shock.  

After lying there another hour replaying the events in his head until he’d rendered them practically unintelligible, the nicotine craving that had started as an itch was now beginning to burn and finally forced him from the floor. As he eased himself up with his palms into a sitting position, he grimaced when a fresh wave of pain from his headache crawled and clawed across his skull, curdling his stomach at the same time; it seemed his low blood sugar level had decided to make itself known; he hadn’t eaten much of anything in days.

Standing, he stretched out his back with a groan and walked over to his workbench, forced to steady himself against it as he lit a cigarette. Taking a large draw and obtaining little satisfaction from it, he looked around the room, his eyes drifting from one corner of the large expansive lab over to the other; it looked bigger somehow,  _emptier_. This was the room he spent most of his time in, the largest in the lair and the one he most associated with a feeling of ‘home’ and yet somehow, right now, he felt like he was standing in the middle of an industrial warehouse. Everything was cold and sterile, functional and smooth, controlled, efficient and lacking in humanity, much like its current owner he thought with a sad sigh.

A few minutes later when the filter of his cigarette started to burn his fingers, he realised he’d been standing staring into space again, he felt like he’d been in an accident, like he’d lost a limb and his mind had tripped a switch in response, short circuiting him until everything came back online.

Flicking the cigarette off into the distance, he shrugged his heavy lab coat off and left it in a crumpled pile on the floor before slowly making his way to the kitchen, dragging his lead feet behind him. It was a strange sensation, like he was working on auto pilot, like he’d lost actual control and his body was just moving without the need for him to think, maybe he would never need to think again, wouldn’t that be  _nice_.

In this strange automatic state he found himself setting out two plates, two glasses and two sets of cutlery, then stood staring at them as if they were some strange manifestation and would evaporate in front of him if he just concentrated hard enough. Feeling a fresh pang of pain in his stomach, he moved over to the large fridge in the corner and opened it up. It was fully stocked as always and as he stood there, bathed in its cold yellow light, his eyes slipped down to the plastic jug on the bottom shelf; pancake batter for tomorrow’s breakfast. It was the first thought to stab at his numbed shell and as he felt that inevitable crack in that hard, brittle exterior, his quivering hand reached for the jug, scooping it up to turn and throw it vehemently across the room with a frustrated roar. With a loud clatter the thick creamy liquid splattered across the far side of the kitchen coating everything in a thin viscid layer which dripped thickly down the cabinet doors to pool on the floor, but that wasn’t the end,  _no_ , it was just the start. Within seconds everything else had been hurled out of the refrigerator to meet the batter on the floor, smashed eggs, punctured milk cartons, Rick’s bottles of root beer, carefully sealed and labelled boxes of leftovers and anything else he could get his frantic, frenzied hands on. 

When the cabinet was finally empty he turned to stare at the mess, body shaking, chest panting and headache now twice as bad. The sight of his kitchen,  _their_ kitchen in such a chaotic mess prompted the memory of Rick’s first attempt to bake a cake;  _Christ_ , the kid has been so damn proud of himself, despite the fact the old man had spent nearly three hours cleaning up the mess; still it had been worth it. It was a fond memory, but Rick’s absence only served to corrupt it, turning it into something that in that moment he wanted to forget.

_What if I never see him again?_

The thought made him feel sick, desperate and lost all over again and prompted him to pick up the extra cup and plate that he had so carefully and so mindlessly laid out on the table. Smashing them on the floor, cracking them to pieces only reminded him of how broken Rick had looked when he’d left and made him feel infinitely worse.

_I have to get out of here._

Turning his back he ran, ran like a man possessed, stumbling into the lab to open a locked drawer, one that contained a kit he hadn’t used in a very long time, one equipped with a lighter, a spoon, some rubber tubing, a syringe and a small bag of powder. If he drank enough whiskey to numb this, it would most certainly kill him, but the right dose of drugs would wrap around him like a warm blanket and allow him to settle into his stupor and hopefully grant him some sleep. A few minutes later, he had collapsed down into his seat, legs outstretched, eyes heavy and unfocused, a small smile evident on his face as he imagined combing his fingers through the kid’s hair, that false, fictitious thought finally allowing him enough comfort to drift off into a deep, dreamless, drugged sleep.

\------------------------------

Golden light flooded the lair’s kitchen as a portal ripped open in the room, making way for a limping demon to step forth from the other side. Bill wasn’t the least bit shocked by the state of the space- cups and plates smashed, food strewn across the floor. Messy was unlike Evil Rick unless he’d been immensely upset… Which was something the demon had been witnessing himself.

Carefully, Bill stepped over the cascade of broken glass and porcelain, making his way down the vast corridors to the main lab and frowned at the sight before him. A spoon. A syringe. A piece of rubber tubing wrapped around the arm of his drug-dazed partner. All details which made Cipher’s expression fall further and further into a frown. Fuck. He should have been here for him  _earlier._

What could he say, what  _should_  he say? A wave of guilt settled over him, a pang of resentment. For Rocker? No, couldn’t be. It was self-resentment more than anything, that he  _knew_  he’d left the man in a similar state multiple times… But now the boy had done the same. And he hoped that any seeds of anger settling in his heart would not confuse his grief over his own actions with the kid’s. Still, it lingered.

Shrugging off the jacket of his suit and wrapping it around Evil Rick’s shoulders, Bill addressed his companion with a voice just above a whisper.

“Ricky?Can you hear me?”

\----------------------------------

Evil Rick had spent the night in the lab, barely lucid, swapping from chair to floor and floor to chair. With the shutters down, the difference between day and night was negligible and so truthfully he had no idea long his night had been or whether dawn had yet arrived. At one point he’d briefly thought about getting up out of his chair and heading to his bed, but the thought of sleeping it in without Rick filled him with a sad ache so he decided to remain in the lab instead. 

A nearby desk was littered with spilled chemicals and broken vials where he had made himself a compound he could take as a substitute for food, one which also contained a strong tranquilliser. Clearly his first few attempts had not been a great success as evidenced by the dark burn in the table and the fact some kind of acid had burned patches through his shirt and scalded areas of his skin. He’d bitterly concluded that he didn’t need food, or company, or comfort or to know what time it was, all he needed was chemicals, lots and lots of chemicals and a body that would accept them all without packing up on him. It was little wonder then that when Bill found him he still had all the signs of a broken man seeking a high he was just too damn low to feel. 

Sensing the warmth of a recently worn jacket wrap around his shoulders, he roused from his semi-comatose state, eyes blinking in the dim light to meet with the bright gaze of Bill’s. 

 _“Bill…when….”_  He blinked a few times as his addled brain fought to catch up with his dry mouth.  _“I didn’t know you…you were here…”_

_\---------------------------_

Bill couldn’t help the look of obvious, blatant concern that fell over his face. A warm palm rested on Evil Rick’s cheek, gently brushing his thumb across his lover’s worn skin. “I just got here…”

The demon’s golden eyes drew to the once-organized desk now cluttered with broken lab equipment, scalded by burns and drenched by pools of various chemicals. His companion looked no better, if not in worse shape- all of the black charred scabs on his skin and the patches of his clothing eaten away by acid. He was unhealthy, distraught,  _miserable._ “Rick… When was the last time you ate?”

It was probably a stupid question. Of course he hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept properly, hadn’t bathed, hadn’t allowed himself to sober up enough to take care of himself. But Cipher couldn’t blame him, when deep voids of sorrow swallowed him, the demon  _also_  longed to be numb.

He had to get Rick out of here, away from all the reminders of the kid, if only for a little while. Somewhere away from the haunting chill of emptiness that swept through the lair, one so cold it even made the demon’s hot skin bloom with goosebumps. The place was consumed by senses of loneliness and loss, and the ache in Bill’s chest only burrowed deeper each time he acknowledged its presence.  _This isn’t good for him. Rotting here alone won’t help him cope._

Wincing as his weight pushed down on his bum leg, one hand firmly gripping his cane as the other snaked under Rick’s arms, he pulled his partner to his feet. “We’re gonna go to Chicken Point. Get you out of here for a while.”

\---------------------------

“ _Mmm._ ” Is was more of a sad mumbled noise than a word, one that indicated he was still day-sleeping, dosed up and too high to really deliver anything coherent. If Bill had arrived a few hours earlier when Evil Rick had sobered up just enough to know he needed another hit, he might have subjected the demon to an angry tirade, fuelled by self hatred and regret, prompted by the pained acknowledgement that his inability to be without Bill had blown his entire life to smithereens. Once again Evil Rick had been the author of his own destruction and frankly it was a book he was tired of reading. 

As Bill questioned him about food, his half lidded eyes drifted over to the burned out workbench. _“I…I don’t…..”_  He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten anything, the concoction he had created and consumed had been designed to stave off the sensation of hunger and the onset of dehydration but it hadn’t actually provided any nourishment. 

Feeling Bill’s arm hook around him he stood on shaky limbs and swayed a little as he wiped his hand down his arm, removing the thin tight rubber tubing still wrapped around his arm, casting it down to the floor with a small groan. The suggestion of leaving the lab was met with a grimace, the idea of going anywhere in this state was daunting, he felt weak and rising to his feet had caused a fresh wave of nausea to wash over him. “ _What if…if…”_  He couldn’t get the words out, he was too exhausted. What if Rick comes back? That was what he was trying to ask but his mouth was so dry and his brain so fried that he couldn’t form the sentence. Wiping his hand down his face he felt his wedding ring knock off his nose, even in this emaciated state he immediately recognised the glowing co-ordinates, co-ordinates which told him the kid was at his penthouse. He glanced around the lab at the mess of the place, sharp cut glass was spread across the floor, the shards running trails between his burnt desk, his stained chair surrounded by empty syringes and the console he had driven a spanner through that was still glitching and sparking in the corner. A red warning light was swirling urgently in the corner and yet he had no idea why. Scratching at the freshly scabbed scars on his chest his head felt heavy and fell to settle on the demon’s shoulder.  _“Okay.”_  He whispered listlessly, finally admitting that he needed some help, something he normally found it incredibly difficult to do. 

\------------------------------

“If he comes back, I’ll get in touch with him. Alright?” Evil Rick didn’t have to finish the question, the demon knew exactly what he’d ask, heard it caught in his companion’s throat and buzzing in his fogged mind. The moment he felt Rick’s head fall onto his shoulder, Bill couldn’t help but press his lips to his forehead in response. It was entirely instinctual, something he had done so many other times when his partner had been upset over the last few decades. At least Rick wasn’t resisting his help, at least this time he was aware he needed it.

As he reached for his portal gun, Cipher was already making a check list in his mind- what he’d need, what order to give them to him. Judging by the stench of old food and chemicals stuck to the man’s skin and clothes, the first thing to be taken care of was most certainly a bath. His shirt, his pants… Well there wasn’t much use in washing them, not after they’d had so many holes burned into the fabric. Bill shook his head- it had been a long time since he’d seen Evil Rick like this. And the last time he had, it certainly wasn’t so bad… But thankfully, this time, the demon could at the very least be there to help him through it.

He allowed the weakened man to fall onto him. It was all he  _wanted_  him to do- Bill wanted to carry that weight of heartache for him, remove it from him,  _burn it_  from him, hold him until the heaviness began to subside. Such a thing would take ages, though. Time was the only thing that could even hope to heal these things… Well, so Cipher was told. He’d never really managed to move on from much of anything himself. If only there was a quicker fix for the pain that love brought with it.

_God I hope they can fix this._

He held Evil Rick tight to his body, limping through the golden portal and into the bathroom of the Chicken Point cabin. Slowly he set his lover down to sit on the metal edge of the tub, his fingers hooking around the hem of Rick’s shirt and pulling it up and over his head. “I’m not trying to get fresh. You need a bath, kiddo.” The demon reached over to twist the faucet, watching as the bath tub filled with warm water. He began to shrug out of his own clothes, intending to join the other, wanting to hold him and scrub the grime and misery off him all at once. Golden eyes fell back upon the hunched over form of his companion, watching him intently as Cipher unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“…You think you can get in yourself or do you need help?”

\---------------------------

As Bill shot open a portal, yellow and bright as sunshine, the old man squinted, dazzled by it for a moment as his body slumped heavily against Bill’s; standing it seemed, was a skill he could not yet master alone, not in this state anyway. Every time he glanced down at his shoes, the surrounding ground looked like it was slowly rising up to meet him and he worried he was plummeting down to collapse against it without really realising it. It had happened once already, a fact his sore knees stood as painful testimony to. 

It was true he’d been in such states before, despondent, broken, bitter and drug addled, neglecting himself to the point of abuse, but this was worse, the heroin use signalled so. The irony was that usually in such states Bill was not around to help because Bill had quite often been the catalyst for them, or more accurately Bill’s _absence_ was. The demon had walked out on him more times than the old man could count although in truth they were both equally culpable; indeed on many occasions he himself had been the one responsible for driving the demon away. The fact he had now done the same to Rick made him feel utterly wretched, as if he was destined never to break the exact pattern of behaviour that was responsible for causing him the most pain. The kid had threatened to leave him, so he’d  _made_ him leave, as if some deeply ingrained part of him needed to  _control_  it, needed to be the one responsible for it so he would never have to feel like the victim again. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, there had been a part of him that had wanted to punish Rick for daring to even think about rejecting him and that was exactly what he had done; cut off his nose to spite his own damn face.

As they entered the cabin, Evil Rick slumped his head against Bill’s shoulder again, taking a brief moment to breathe in his familiar scent, immediately feeling comforted by it. Time and time again he and Bill had tried together and failed together, strangely it felt different now, there was less expectation, more trust and less dependency, well less dependency was what he had intended, but right now, right now as the demon set him down on the edge of the bathtub and pulled his tattered shirt off of him, he was, to his abject shame, nothing but dependant. 

As he watched Bill unbutton his dress shirt, he gave a silent nod to indicate that he could manage the rest himself. Kicking off his shoes and rolling off his socks he slipped down his trousers and underwear and cast everything off into a wrinkled up pile in the corner before taking up the same position perched on the end of the bathtub. With his eyes still cast down to the floor he sat staring at the dark bruising around his knees waiting for the water to sufficiently cool.

\----------------------------

The demon took notice of the bruises covering Evil Rick’s knees. He’d been falling down from the looks of them- they were large, dark purple and swollen. He’d need ice for those soon. Having stripped down until he wore only the scars and tattoos engraved in his skin, Bill slowly settled to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around the other’s waist and pulling him close once again to press his lips against the back of his neck. Bright yellow eyes gazed down onto Rick’s skin, analyzing every inch of his body, remembering every bruise, scab and burn that needed tending.

“You keep this up and you’re going to get an infection.” Warm fingers brushed along the scabs on his chest, his arms, the demon’s sharp exhale muffled by his partner’s skin. It wasn’t going to be enough to just give him this and send him on his way. Bill was hellbent on staying with him for however long Evil Rick needed him, however long he had to be away from the lair. “You need to take care of yourself, you mad old fool… I’m staying with you until you promise me that you will.”

If there was ever a moment that Cipher wished he had the power to heal heartache, it was now.

He shook his head, reaching behind him to run his hand through the water. Satisfied with the temperature he slipped carefully into the tub, the water making a little hissing sound as the demon’s warm body settled into it, a plume of steam coming from its surface as it sloshed over him. Bill spread his legs, making space for the other to join him. He wrapped his fingers around his companion’s wrist, beckoning him with a little tug.

\-----------------------------

Feeling Bill’s warm lips settle on the back of his neck he shuddered a little, the cold air off the still lake was chilling the cabin and the automatic heating system had only just kicked in when they arrived; understandable given neither of them had intended to be here today. He could feel the bright burn of Bill’s eyes raking over every exposed inch of him, taking in the utter state of him; the fresh wounds, new dirt and ripe bruises which covered his knees and pin-pricked up his arms. Crossing his arms he pressed his palms against his legs to cup and shield his knees in an attempt to hide the sight of it but his efforts were futile at best; there was no hiding something like this. He was just glad the kid didn’t have to see it, he hated the thought of Rick seeing him this weak. 

Bill was speaking and the demon’s tone was noticeably consumed with concern, in response Evil Rick raised his head to show he was slowly sobering up. “ _I will._ ” He answered hoarsely, smiling gratefully as Bill confirmed he would stay with him. He didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t trust himself to be alone right now. 

Watching as Bill entered the tub, he waited until the demon’s legs had parted and slipped in himself, his clumsy intoxicated entrance causing water to cascade over the sides, spilling down to drench the floor. As he settled his weary old bones into the warm water, careful not to squash Bill’s balls in the process, he rested back against the demon and huffed out a tense breath, sucking air back through his teeth as the water washed over the chemical burns, irritating them and causing them to ache anew. When the discomfort finally started to subside, he rested his arms on the demon’s legs and ghosted his fingertips over Bill’s deeply entrenched scar as his eyes gradually closed, signalling he was finally, slowly started to relax a little. 

\------------------------------

Cipher couldn’t stifle the light laugh that escaped his lips, watching the water spill out of the sides of the tub. No matter, it was nothing that the demon couldn’t clean with a literal wave of his hand. All of Bill’s focus was on Rick’s closing eyes. Strong, warm, wet arms wrapped around the other’s waist, holding him gently but securely against Cipher’s body. A familiar protective instinct swelled in his stomach, spread through his body and nestled in his bones, a white hot flame that shot through his bloodstream and covered every inch of surface beneath his skin. It was one that had always been there for this man,  _would_  always be there for this man. Bill swore that if anybody tried to take Evil Rick from him now, the demon would surely tear them to shreds himself.

“Got yourself in quite a state, didn’t you kiddo?… This is gonna sting just a little bit.” He pressed another kiss to the back of Rick’s head, reaching for the bar of soap beside the tub and scrubbing it gently across the sores and scabs on his partner’s arm. Setting the soap aside he grabbed the sponge next to it, slowly working the cleanser into Rick’s skin, caressing and attending to every wound on his body with careful reverence. “You should have called me.”

Deciding that could-haves, would-haves and  _should-haves_  were probably the last thing his lover wanted to hear, the demon let out a sharp exhale. “I’m just glad you’re alive. I intend to keep you that way.” Shampoo was next, pouring an ample dose of it into his palm and then working the bubbles through Evil Rick’s grey-blue hair, warm fingertips massaging his scalp. Once his head was coated in foam, Bill placed a hand over his partner’s eyes, shielding them as he squeezed the sponge over him and let the water rinse the shampoo into the bath water.

\------------------------------

As he felt Bill’s warm arms slink around his waist and hold him close, his wet back pressing against Bill’s slick chest, he huffed out a deep desperate breath as he accepted the embrace and everything it meant to him. How many times in recent memory had he longed for Bill to hold him like this, longed for Bill to treat him like something he simply couldn’t get go; precious, irreplaceable,   _important_. Every touch was bittersweet, the quality of that giving still tainted by its loss. It would take time he supposed, time to forgive Bill, time to forgive himself; he’d missed this adoration so much it still ached to receive it, perhaps in some way it always would. 

He tensed as the demon cleaned his wounds, the soap beginning to sting the burns, it hurt, but the external damage was a mere scratch compared to how troubled he felt. He couldn’t bear the awful duplicity of the situation, getting Bill back had finally healed up the hole in his heart, losing Rick had blown it apart. 

 _“I should have done a lot of things._ ” He replied solemnly, pulling Bill’s arm up around his chest to bow his head and rest his scarred lips against it, somewhat lost in thought.

I intend to keep you that way. 

The word ‘keep’ struck a particular resonance with Evil Rick, that hint of possession welcomed after being absent for so long. He did not reply, instead becoming distracted by the feeling of the demon’s fingers circling his scalp. It was a strange sensation, to feel so utterly unguarded and vulnerable in this moment given how vigilant and protective he’d been forced to be with both his words and thoughts all this time. He’d tried so hard to convince himself this wasn’t meant to be, to give Bill a chance to have what he thought the demon truly wanted; a family, a husband, a life without him, a life as  _friends_. Looking back on it all now it seemed ridiculous that he’d ever believed he was capable of condensing this horrible, terrible, unyielding obsession down into a mere friendship. He needed Bill,  _loved_  him and that intractable truth had cost him  _everything_  else. 

Closing his eyes as Bill’s palm fell over his eyes he held his breath as water cascaded down his head and shoulders; if only water could wash away the guilt. Turning in the tub he settled on his side, pressing his face against the zodiac wheel deeply burned into Bill’s chest. “ _I’m yours to keep._ ” He said softly, unable to hide the sadness still strangling his voice.  _“…but I warn you, everything I touch turns to shit…”_  His hands gripped despairingly onto Bill’s waist. _“…the minute I truly grasp it.”_

_\--------------------------_

_I’m yours to keep…but I warn you, everything I touch turns to shit… the minute I truly grasp it._

The demon heard the grief in his companion’s voice and he wanted nothing more than to rip it out of him, replace every black, aching bit of Evil Rick’s heart with something fresh, something healed, something  _whole._ Bill held him tightly, protectively,  _possessively,_ as if somehow letting Rick go now would mean that it would be the last he saw of him. He simply couldn’t let that happen. The demon wasn’t sure he’d survive another separation from him. In fact he  _knew_  he wouldn’t.

Cipher pulled him closer, curling his body around him, shielding him from the guilt and the pain, enveloping him in the heat emitting from the demon’s flesh and burying his nose into his partner’s hair. “I’m a fire that you can’t put out no matter how hard you try, Ricky… I don’t think I have it in me to stop loving you regardless of what you do.” He couldn’t help but breathe a laugh. Metaphorically or literally, it was true of Bill’s nature. Everything about him was indeed an eternally flickering flame.

And here was the mighty Chaos God himself now, unable to stop holding him, unable to stop kissing along the top of Rick’s head and rubbing his shoulder, unable to stop  _desperately_ trying to provide some source of comfort or reassurance. He had been the cause of this despair so many times. Finally he had the chance to make up for his mistakes, and he would tenfold… even if he was the cause of this cataclysmic turn of events. All the times he’d abandoned Evil Rick, left him as if the young boy he once knew wasn’t good enough or was too broken to fulfill what he needed… All the meanwhile a new piece of the demon’s soul had been crushed each and every time he made the decision to walk out on the human,  _his_  human.

No more.

“Forty years and no matter how shitty and broken it’s gotten, I keep coming back because you’re mine. I will  _always_  come back…  ** _The people who love you will always come back, Rick.”_**

\-----------------------

He lay there in the water, holding on, being  _held_ , feeling somewhat separated from himself, lost and grief stricken and gripping tensely onto the only thing he thought he might have left. In the past holding onto Bill had been like gripping a fist full of sand, the tighter he squeezed, the more everything fell through his fingers, falling out of his reach. Even now as the demon curled around him, possessively,  _protectively,_  he felt both comfort and terror in equal measure; the closer he allowed himself to get to Bill, the more it was going to hurt when it all turned to shit. The kid’s words still haunted him’ 

‘…because it’s going to happen, eventually when you and Bill fucking blow apart again, this time you’re going to be all by your miserable fucking self!’

The thought forced him to bury his face against Bill’s wet chest, shielding his expression, listening as his lover spoke of fire. It was undeniable, it was the force he most associated with the demon; heat, flame, devastation and destruction. He’d been burned in his youth and while the tell-tale marks on his skin had healed, nothing else had; he felt  _burned_ , felt like he was burning  _still_. Over the years he’d become profoundly skilled at building thick solid walls that kept other people out, that kept him unaffected. With Bill he had always remained a sore and open wound, one which the demon could slip his hand into to clutch at his heart whenever he saw fit. He’d never been able to deny him, even when there had been times in his life where he’d  _hated_  him. 

I will  _always_  come back…  ** _The people who love you will always come back, Rick._**

Over the years the demon had lied to him, had spoken sweet platitudes, tender words said in the heat of the moment; I will never leave you, you’re the only one….the list went on and on and to an extent they were both guilty of it; ignoring the worse in one another to continue enjoying the best, believing each others lies because it suited them. This time Bill seemed to be offering something truer, something infinitely more authentic; the demon’s honest acknowledgement that things might fall apart again, but should that happen, they’d eventually end up back together, they’d  _always_ end up back together. 

Moving up Bill’s body he pressed his forehead against the demon’s lips and huffed out a shaky breath as he continued to hold him close. _“I don’t want to be alone.”_  He admitted, in a strained voice that sounded nothing like his own. For anyone else it would have been a simple and natural statement, but  _not_  for Rick; the old man had been alone for most of his life, he’d  _never_  resented it and he’d  _never_  feared it, in fact more often than not, he’d taken solace in it. For a man with so many enemies, he suspected old age was going to be his greatest foe and its first offence it seemed was to transform the vaguely abstract thought of dying alone into a very real and legitimate fear. Momentarily overcome, his hands slipped up to fervently grip Bill’s shoulders as he pulled the demon down into a desperately deep kiss, one laced with the savour of pain and the faint hope of some deliverance from it. 

\-------------------------

‘… _because it’s going to happen, eventually when you and Bill fucking blow apart again, this time you’re going to be all by your miserable fucking self!’_

Bill heard that thought loud and clear. Not one of Rick’s own, but rather an intrusive one. A separate voice.  _Rocker._ It was a memory, one so starkly venomous and sharp, tainted with pain and betrayal and weighed down by every ounce of what the kid had been feeling. And so Bill gripped his lover  _tighter,_ held him  _closer,_ trembling ever so slightly as the water cooled and the heat beneath his skin re-ignited for a new purpose of warmth, of  _comfort._ A palm laid across the back of Rick’s head as he buried his face into the demon’s chest,  _encouraging_  him to do so. He needed this. There was surely to be a day in the future when  _Bill_  would need this. Everyone did at some point. Sometimes a weight was too heavy to carry all by your lonesome.

 _I don’t want to be alone._  It was a statement that visibly shook Evil Rick to his core, and in turn did the very same to Cipher. Until he’d met Rick in the 70s he _had_  been alone. He had  _always_  been alone for trillions of years. And when he had rid of himself of that loneliness, when  _Rick_  had cured him of it, throwing himself back into it each and every time only hurt more and more. Bill didn’t want to be alone either. He feared an eternity left to suffer with it. He didn’t know what to do anymore after having a companion for so long. Maybe to most immortal beings, forty years was nothing more than a blink of an eye. But Bill  _had_ been mortal once, had aged  _normally_  once. His sense of time never adapted. The lonely years had been far too long, the years with company far too short but nonetheless he  _clung_  to the last forty years because they had, indeed, been the most precious to him despite all of the ups and downs.

Bill leaned into the kiss, deepening it, pressing his lips hard and greedily against Evil Rick’s, pushing against the back of his head to have him closer. God how he’d missed this,  _kissing_  Rick like this, being  _intimate_  with Rick like this. It had become such a staple in his life over the years, a necessity as obvious and profound as air- and whenever he’d cut off his own supply, its absence had been stark. When they parted, the demon took in a sharp breath for air, wrapping his arms around the other and pulling him close to his body once more, resting his chin on top of his partner’s head. “ _I love you,”_ he whispered. “ _You’re not going to be alone. I won’t let you be alone.”_

He wasn’t sure what to do next. They needed this, to just sit here, to be with each other, the intensity of this moment was immense, and somehow reassuring to the demon, knowing they could share these moments again, even if it was after yet another fresh wound… But Rick also needed food, sleep, plenty of things he’d either been denying himself or too distraught to care for. Bill gently smoothed his palm across the other’s back, the warmth of his skin evaporating the droplets of water as he rubbed circles across Rick’s shoulder blades. He was quiet for awhile, staring out at the lake and enjoying the silence until he finally found words.

“…It’s been a while since you ate… We should get out of the tub so I can make you something.”

\--------------------------

As Bill whispered to him, reassuring him, he rested against him, once again overwhelmed by the situation and on the edge of passing out completely, eyes closed, breathing lightly.  _“I love you too…”_  he murmured listlessly becoming increasingly aware that even with Bill’s heat the bathwater was beginning to grow cold. They lay like that for some time, Bill’s warm tattooed hands circling his shoulders, easing out their stress as the demon looked out over the still waters of the lake and Rick lay against him listening to the quick beat of his flesh puppet’s heart.

Slowly stirring as Bill mentioned food, Evil Rick gradually opened his eyes and nodded before carefully beginning to extract himself from the demon, immediately feeling a chill run up his spine as he did so. The sudden loss of Bill’s body heat somewhat shocking for his drug addled system. Stepping out of the tub he grabbed a nearby towel and passed it over to Bill with a shiver before grabbing one for himself. Although shaky, he could stand and the floor it seemed had stopped jostling for position with the sky, which could only be a good thing he supposed. He still felt numbed by the drugs, but it was a far gentler calm that now cloaked him, rather than a desperate attempt at repression. He had to get himself into a fit state, everything else could be tackled after that. As he dried himself he considered what he might like to eat, not yet sure if he could actually, physically stomach anything. It had been a long time since Bill had cooked for him and despite the nausea still curdling his stomach, he was looking forward to at least attempting to eat something home cooked.

 _“Your French toast.”_  He confirmed with a grateful smile, wrapping the towel tightly around his waist before stepping towards Bill to smooth a calloused palm over the demon’s shoulder blade and press a small kiss against it…  _“I’ve missed it._ ”

\-------------------------

It had been a morning filled with french toast and warm baths and simply enjoying each other in the silence of the remote cabin. And tonight’s evening would be quiet yet again, this time induced by the mutual weight of their sorrows and the warm taste of whiskey.

Multiple drinks later and Bill still felt numb, shocked, as if the entire thing had been a bad dream. But he’d pinched himself and sure enough he was wide awake. Before he left the bar he’d made sure to burn the place to the ground- whether in a spark of rage over the closing chapter of his marriage, or simply because the bartender couldn’t make a martini to save his life, he couldn’t tell. He saved a decanter of whiskey from the top shelf, and shot open a yellow portal back into the Chicken Point cabin and carrying with him the scents of smoke, alcohol and misery.

He stepped back into the bedroom, finding Rick just as he had left him, resting on the bed, and for a brief moment a smile crossed the demon’s face. His companion still looked troubled but… Considerably less so than how he had found him. And after the pair of them had just made some of the hardest decisions of their lives, at least there would be someone with them. At least they both knew how the other was feeling on some level. At least they had one another.

Exhausted, he settled onto the edge of the mattress, staring at the floor as he placed his rings and the whiskey on the bedside table and looking utterly defeated. He rubbed his tattooed hands down his face, a deep sigh escaping his lips. 

 _The tattoos…_ No. He wasn’t ready for that. 

“… _I left him.”_

_\-------------------_

Having come in from the cold, Evil Rick had collapsed on the bed still wrapped in the spare quilt, his bare feet jutting out the bottom end. He’d spent most of the day sleeping in that warm cocoon because at least when he was sleeping he wasn’t think about the drugs he still craved, wasn’t thinking about what a fuck up he was. The kid’s text had filled him with hope and right now any kind of hope was sitting uncomfortably with him, he didn’t trust himself to believe it or indeed  _feel_  it. There was a certain calming honesty about admitting to himself that everything had turned to shit; it meant things couldn’t get any worse, or so he thought. 

Hearing Bill enter the bedroom, he awoke from his light dreamless sleep, far too warm and so quickly, blindly shuffled out of the spare duvet and underneath the colder bed covers. He could smell whiskey and cigarettes and assumed the demon had been out celebrating the sentiment of the day with his other half. Normally the thought would bother him, but with Bill back, back with him, it took the sting out of the demon finding happiness in the arms of another. 

Rubbing his eyes he rolled onto his side, propping his head up under his arm as his blurred vision slowly cleared to reveal Bill sitting on the end of the bed staring at the floor looking completely forlorn and utterly distraught. Immediately Rick’s ever enduring and astoundingly fatalistic pessimism kicked in, his paranoia suggesting that the demon had some bad news to break to him, most probably some kind of rejection. Perhaps the demon had realised the mistake he’d made and had decided to put family first, perhaps they’d never be in this place together ever again. His stomach lurched at the thought, his mouth growing impossibly dry as he waited for it, waited for the inevitable blow, the one that might just finish him off for good.

I left him. 

 _“You….”_  The old man couldn’t get the words out, the shock at hearing the statement had immediately rendered him practically speechless. This was the exact opposite of what he’d been expecting to hear. Instantly the need to bombard Bill with questions flared up inside him, but one look at the damaged demon told him now was not the time. 

 _“Oh Bill…”_ Sympathy swelled inside him, surprising him with its sadness, all this time he’d  _hated_  them being together,  _hated_  how happy having his alternative had  _made_  the demon but now, to hear that it was over, there was none of the joy he’d expected and none of the relief. The demon’s devastation was palpable and it mixed with his own to create a thick misery which covered and cloaked them both. Pulling back the bed covers he leaned forward to coax the fully clothed demon backwards into the soft warmth of the bed, helping him take off his suit jacket as he pulled him to him. Leaning forward, he snatched up the bottle of whiskey Bill had laid on the dresser, unscrewed the cap and took several large gulps before passing it to the demon and curling around him, holding him close. 

_“I’m so sorry.”_

\--------------------------

It was a strange but welcome feeling, to have someone to comfort him after he’d fucked his life up so tremendously. Bill didn’t know if he should cry. Did he have a right? What should he feel? He didn’t know… It had happened so fast. He’d been expecting a discussion, something  _longer._ But in the grand scheme of things, perhaps there just wasn’t much to say. For now, Cipher  _didn’t_ know what to say. The truest, most selfless act he could have done for his marriage was terminate it. Because he would take and take what he wanted until he bled everyone else dry.

He couldn’t help but smile, still. It was soft,  _barely_  there but it was present nonetheless. Rick reaching for him and peeling the clothing from his skin was such a familiar sensation that could cheer him up through anything like this, even if it was only momentarily. He let his suit jacket fall to the floor and unbuttoned the white dress shirt the rest of the way down, pulling apart his bow tie in the process. He stripped down to his underwear, bunching up his clothes to toss down alongside the jacket.

The demon fell back on the bed with a huff, letting Rick curl against his side and shifting underneath the covers so that his partner could rest his head on Bill’s scarred and tattooed chest. Golden eyes caught sight of the triangle-patterned heart and a new sting of guilt pierced that very spot on his chest. He wanted to drown it with liquor. He didn’t want the pain to come, not just yet. Because when his husband finally tore the brand away  _that’s_  when he wanted it to crash down, for the pain to come in one fell swoop. He needed to hold it off until then. He knew the grief would consume him otherwise… Though he was unsure if he could really keep it from bubbling up and spilling over.

“ _Don’t be,”_  he whispered, running his fingers through Rick hair as he took a good, long swig of the whiskey. He kept the bottle clutched in his other hand. “I didn’t want to do it but… I had to. It wasn’t fair to him. He deserves better than me. Someone who could give him their whole self.” The demon paused for a long while, staring out on the lake as the orange glow of dusk began to reflect on the still surface. “I haven’t been able to do that for the last forty years… I think it’s time I accepted that.”

It was true of course, that Evil Rick had made his claim over the demon’s heart and was there to stay. And Bill didn’t mind, he never would, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d hated himself so long for denying it and thankfully he wouldn’t have to anymore, wouldn’t  _dare_  to anymore. But as he continued to massage the other’s scalp he couldn’t help the hot tears that rolled down his cheeks. He didn’t sob. He couldn’t find the energy or the slightest bit of reassurance that he was in the right to do so. He would never see him again. Or his kids. Or at the very least, not for a long time. But it  _needed_  to be that way. Bill wanted to be with Evil Rick, and the demon’s husband would hopefully find someone else who could provide all of the things he had wanted but the demon could never give him.

The sparkle in his eyes had faded to cast only a dull yellow light as he craned his neck, pressing another kiss to the top of Rick’s head. He took in one more deep, shaky breath. “Me and you against the world, kid. Just like old times.

\--------------------------

Me and you.

The words caused something to stir within Evil Rick, something selfish, possessive and utterly self-gratifying, a sensation he had worked hard to bury for months beneath successive layers of denial; the sensation that he wanted Bill to be his and his  _alone_. All of a sudden his sympathy for the beautiful devil was utterly transformed into a deep and wholly grotesque sense of satisfaction.  _God_ , he was such a fucking creep, as the sensation settled down inside him, he realised to his abject shame that in truth he didn’t even care that Bill had lost his entire family, he had never wanted Bill to have a family in the fucking first place. He didn’t want Bill to hurt, of course he didn’t, it broke his heart to see him so distraught, yet still a part of him existed that believed the demon  _deserved_ that hurt, not for betraying his husband, but for ever daring to believe he needed anything more than the murderous man currently curled around him. Bill was right, Evil Rick’s love was  _dangerous_ , dangerous because he loved the demon too much, so much that it transformed something that was supposed to be pure and beautiful into something ugly, needy, desperate and demanding. Right now it was worse than it had ever been, a love which bordered on utter obsession and while Bill had been broken by this unexpected turn of events, Rick felt  _lifted_  by it.  

 _“Mmm….mine….”_  The words were almost growled as he wiped the hot tears from Bill’s cheeks and looked at the demon like he wanted to tear him apart just to climb inside him, all signs of his previous frailty gone as that awful, greedy, terrible need for it to be acknowledged flared inside him, bright, commanding and all-consuming. “ _All mine…only mine.”_  He insisted feverishly, clambering over the demon to straddle his hips and press fraught kisses up his chest and neck. As his mouth hoovered over Bill’s it was clear he had lost all semblance of self-control; frankly he looked high, intoxicated by the satisfaction of his own inappropriate and self-indulgently desperate need.  _“Tell me…”_  He gasped breathlessly, his hands finding Bills wrists and pushing them into the mattress.  _“God, please…fuck…TELL ME….I want to hear you say it…I…I have to…I…SAY IT!”_

_\-----------------------_

In all honesty,  _this_ was the reaction that the demon had first expected, the one he knew would eventually come. And when it did he wasn’t disgusted by it, wasn’t even  _remotely_  put off by it. Instead he wholly welcomed it, tilting back his head and puffing out his chest and letting Rick claim his body,  _covering_  him with kisses and releasing all of the pent up excitement he’d been holding back for so long. Fuck he should be feeling so much worse.  _Why couldn’t he stop laughing?_ It was hearty,  _happy,_ echoing against every wall of the room as it crescendoed from a light chuckle to his shrill cackling.  _All mine. Only mine._ Evil Rick’s possession of him always felt so damn  _good._ Like he was the most profound and prized being in the universe.  ** _Because he was._**

A smirk fell over the demon’s face as his wrists were pinned, amber eyes sparking with a new light of playfulness under the other’s grip. With his lover distracted by his own obsessions, Bill felt ready to act on his own. Rick’s strength was no match for him- he pushed the other off of him, back onto the bed and mimicking the  _exact_  hold his partner just had over him. Before Evil Rick could protest, he crashed their lips together, kissing him deeply,  _hungrily,_ and in that moment the demon realized that his companion’s neediness and longing and possessiveness was not  _at all_ one-sided. Laying claim over one another, ugly and raw obsession was the dialect of love that Cipher spoke and understood. This was what he knew. No matter how bad it was for the both of them, he understood toxicity. Identified with it.  _This was what he could reciprocate._

He pulled away from the other with a breathless gasp, domineering golden stare firmly fixed on the man beneath him. “ _All_  yours.  ** _Only_  **yours. Just how you’re  ** _mine. You will always be mine.”_**

Pairing his mischievous smile with a wink, the trickster God moved off of the other to crawl back under the covers. “Now calm down and come lay with me, you crazy shit.”

\---------------------------

He saw the little twist of a smile creeping into Bill’s expression, watched it grow as the demon laughed so loud it deafened him. As the shrill sound split his ears he moved closer until the sound blocked out everything else, bathing himself in its cruel beauty. God it was so awful that Bill was laughing at all right now and somehow that made it even  _better,_  as if the sound was sacrilege and its sin was the only pure thing about either of them.  

He let out a shocked huff as Bill shifted from under him pushing him up and over to deposit him on his back and sit atop him. He gave no resistance, partly because he currently lacked strength but mostly because he enjoyed being pinned under Bill. As Bill’s warm hands held his wrists, he squirmed in the grip encouraging the demon to grasp  _harder._ The hungry kiss he received was utterly devouring and he soon found himself lost to it, all thoughts obliterated from his mind, as the taste and smell of Bill consumed his senses and flooded him with arousal. As soon as it broke he gasped in a sharp breath of air, his eyes flickering open to lock with Bill’s, still filled with demand to hear the demon speak.God he’d waited so long for this, _too long_ , waiting even a second longer was simply torture. 

When Bill finally said the words he believed he’d never hear again in his life time, Evil Rick fell silent as he let the sentiment slowly settled inside him, washing away the pain of being replaced.  Feeling himself becoming over emotional he scoffed it away, shielding the reaction.  _“About fucking time._ ” He growled, his smile widening as the demon flashed him a dirty little wink, one he returned with equal depravity.  

As Bill fell off to the side he grabbed at the demon’s arm guiding it to settle around him as he laid his head down on Bill’s chest and listened to his heart. The old man didn’t have the energy for this, it was obvious, he was still a fucking state and the brief burst of movement had caused his stomach to flip cartwheels, or perhaps the cause was the knowledge that he finally had Bill all to himself. He wasn’t sure, he didn’t care; the last few days had been hellish and he was determined to allow himself to enjoy this one small moment of epiphany in all it’s awful glory. Smoothing a calloused palm across Bill’s chest in soft wide circles, he smiled at the insult as he took the demon’s hand and danced his rough fingertips over the tattoos that were spread over the demon’s knuckles and trailed down one finger.  _“I will always be your crazy shit.”_  He whispered with a wry chuckle, rubbing Bill’s knuckles along his jawbone.  _“I always was.”_

_\-------------------------_

_I will always be your crazy shit._   _I always was._  

Bill couldn’t help but grin at the affirmation. There was going to be a long and hard road ahead, no different than the last forty years- toxic, maddening, obsessive and  _heart-wrenching_  were only a few of the words to describe it. They were bad for each other, they had a history of falling apart. But even if they weren’t necessarily each other’s missing puzzle piece, neither of them gave a shit. Bill  _certainly_  didn’t. He would never let Rick go. He  _never_  could. He could care less if their pieces fit together, he would  _make them._

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Ricky,” the demon yawned, allowing the massaging motions of his lover’s hands across his scarred and marked skin lulling him slowly into a sleepy state. He wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever, hazy tired eyes gazing out over a moonlit lake, with both Rick and a bottle of whiskey on either side of him. He reached over, pulling the covers over the pair of them and shifting closer to the other’s body, his skin emitting a cozy warmth that fought off the cold air in the cabin. “I love you too much for my own good, asshole.”

He would feel guilt in the morning. Pain. Grief. It always took a while to catch up with him, but it would- especially once he sobered up. But there was a comfort in knowing that Rick would be there to help him through it, just as he’d been there to help him, was  _still_  there to help him. They would stay in this place until they were ready to go face the world once more. And no matter how much shit hit the fan, no matter how bad the following days or weeks were, no matter what consequences came… They would have each other. They would have this place to escape to.

“I’ll make more french toast in the morning,” he whispered quite suddenly, fingers lacing through the other’s hair. He was thinking about breakfast already, realizing he hadn’t consumed anything but alcohol since earlier and he was  _starving._ But for now he was too weak to get up. Right now his body had tethered him to the mattress,  _demanding_ he sleep. “Goodnight, Rick.”

And once the lapping of the water on the shore commanded his sleepy eyes to close, once his warm palm fell away from the other’s head, the only sound heard in the Chicken Point cabin was the demon’s quiet, purring snore.

\-----------------

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> The next thread/fic is called Midnight, which takes place a few days after this while Bill and Evil Rick are still hiding away at the Chicken Point cabin together. Evil Rick is now coping better, but it is Bill who now needs further support.


End file.
